Page 103 of For The Weekend
“Walked out of your apartment?”
I toy with my necklace. “Mm-hmm. I guess it serves me right for reading his mail. Getting into his business.” I take a deep breath that hiccups in my throat, and I’m close to losing it again. “He didn’t respond to any of my texts or calls, and then when he finally talked to me the next day, it all blew up.”
“Blew up like an argument?”
“Kinda.” I rub at the stinging in my nose. “But not really. He was angry, and I got angry, and…” I blink a lot, attempting to stop the tears before they start. “He basically threw my family back in my face. Said I shouldn’t be trying to fix his family when I have problems with my own.”
Sloane sucks in an audible breath. “Ouch.”
“I’m a big girl,” I say between sniffles. “I can take it. I know I have stuff to deal with, and I know he was lashing out at me because I hurt him, but…”
“It’s hard to hear it said out loud,” she fills in, and I nod.
“Yeah, and even more because I love him.” I force myself up, repeating to my best friend what I’d told Roman. “I love him.”
And then I break down, crying into her shoulder. It takes me a minute to pull myself together enough to apologize to her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to burden you with this. You’ve got enough on your plate.”
She shakes her head. “You’re my best friend. You could never be a burden to me.” She takes my hand in hers. “I’llalways be here for you, like you’re always here for me. I’ll help carry your load, like you help to carry mine.”
Her words make me cry even harder, and she hands me the tissue box before standing back up to finish folding the kids’ laundry. “So, what are you going to do?”
I rub at my wet eyes. “I don’t know. I want to be with him, but I don’t know how to prove that to him.”
Once she’s finished her task, she eyes me carefully. “Maybe you can start by proving himwrong.” When I frown at her, she flicks her hand out toward my cell phone on the coffee table. “You told me you loved how he stood up for you at the wedding. Maybe it’s time to stand up for yourself. Stand up for him.”
My stomach churns at the idea of confronting my mother in a real way. Finally telling her what I’ve always wanted to but have been too afraid to rock the boat. I think about what Roman said, about how he never cares what people think about him…except for me.
He cared about me, and if I do this, it wouldn’t only be for me, but for us too. I psych myself up with a few deep breaths and stand, shaking my hands out before pressing my mom’s contact on my cell phone. I put it on speaker so Sloane can listen.
Mom answers on the third ring. “Eloise, hello. Haven’t heard from you in a while.”
“I’ve been busy,” I say, and she makes a dubious noise on her end.
“So what do you need?”
“There’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time.”
“Finally. I’m glad you came to your senses?—”
I cut her off because I know she’s still expecting an apology, but she’s not going to get one. “You hurt my feelings.”
“What?” She screeches the word. She can’t even comprehend it.
“You hurt my feelings a lot with the way you speak to me. You talk down to me, and it makes me feel bad, and that’s why I have a difficult time being around you.”
“Eloise. How dare you.”
“No, Mom, how dareyou. It’s funny that you’re acting so surprised, when you literally do it every time you speak to me or see me.”
“Do what?”
“Condescend to me. You say backhanded things about what I look like or how I act. You’ve never tried to understand my diagnosis, and you act like it’s not real.”
“You’re being dramatic now. I’ve always been supportive of you.”
Sloane rolls her eyes and sticks her middle finger up at the phone, and her being here for this makes me stronger. Bolder. Braver.
“It doesn’t feel like it for me. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Your version of being supportive is not. It’s always been a competition between you and your sister, and if you’re not pitting me against Lily, you’re tearing me down so that I become closer to the version of the daughter you want, and it’s not okay. It’s not right.”
